


Time

by HotDogHowitzer



Series: Infinity Week 2020 [2]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Gen, Infinity Week, PTSD, anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotDogHowitzer/pseuds/HotDogHowitzer
Summary: Time may heal all wounds, but the scars left behind can be just as terrible.
Series: Infinity Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933294
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Time

Tom pushed away from the sink, then closed his eyes and leaned against the opposite wall of the head. He tried to focus on keeping his breathing steady, and pause between each one so that he didn't get any shakier than he already was. It had been awhile since he'd had a night terror this bad; for the first time in several months he'd thrashed himself awake in a mess of tangled sheets drenched in sweat, fear squirming in his gut as he'd bolted upright and tried to get a grip on his mind.  
  
As he struggled to push the lingering anxiety aside, his stomach lurched again and threatened to make him gag. He felt lightheaded and hot, despite the cold metal against his back and shoulders, and he sank into a crouch before his legs could give out completely. But sitting there with his knees drawn up made him feel stuffy and claustrophobic, so he turned and laid flat on his back, palms pressed to the cold floor under him. 

It always surprised him how vivid the dreams were, how the emotion and even physical sensations lingered, sometimes for hours after he woke up. One would think the memories and the terror would have dulled by now; then again, thirty years of fighting the same aliens who he watched murder Vickers and Chyler...

"Captain Lasky," Roland's voice drifted through the small room, much quieter and gentler than his usual boisterous tone. "I've lowered the temperature of your quarters a little to help you cool off." 

It took Tom a moment to formulate a response. He ended up just nodding as his hand found it's way to his dog tags and he gripped the chunk of Lekgolo armor in his fist, stroking over the now-smooth surface with his thumb. It had acted as his touchstone for thirty years, helping to ground him as well as inspire. And now it reminded him that even after being pronounced dead for four years, Chief - the sole reason he had survived Circinus - was still alive and well. 

It helped.

" _Infinity_ will arrive in the Epoloch system in two days' time." Roland continued, still quiet and mercifully easy on Tom's tired neurons. As he listened to the AI rattle off a systems report and he began to relax, a bone-deep weariness started to settle over him. He still felt like he was lagging two seconds behind what was happening, but the unsettled squirming in his belly had dissipated and he was actually beginning to feel a little cold.

"Thank you, Roland," he interrupted. "I appreciate you being here...didn't know you were programmed to handle this sorta stuff." He murmured as he sat up.

"I'm not, Aine left a note in your personnel file addressed to the AI that was to take her place." Tom chuckled.

"Oh, what else did she say 'bout me?" 

"To remind you to drink a little, and that you like to read until you fall asleep again, sir."

Tom couldn't help but smile. He'd liked Aine, and he regretted that she'd been lost when Infinity crashed on Requiem and it was comforting to know she'd cared enough to leave notes for her successor regarding times like this. 

"So noted," Tom said as he hauled himself to his feet. "I'm feeling tired tonight, think I'm gonna go lay down." He turned on the sink and cupped his hands under the cool water and drank, then splashed some onto his face to rinse away the sweat. 

As he ambled back to the bed, he found himself musing about how, despite everything, he was still here. Thirty years of desperate fighting had scarred him, yes. But he was still himself. 

And for some reason, he found that to be comforting. 


End file.
